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Emman seems pleased by the compliment, "It's a local brew, made just for us by the Iron Side Brewery up the mountain. You'll not find it anywhere else. If you're staying for lunch you'd best get your orders in soon." He hands you a menu which has typical pub fair at reasonable prices.
You walk in to a blast of warm air and the smell of beer and fried food, and just like last night the conversation stops. The proprietor an elderly but still powerful man called Emman Gulston frowns at you but after a pregnant pause he calls out, "You going to stand there letting the weather in, or are you going to order something?" Inside the tavern is a long polished oak bar with a set of twenty optics, and five different ales on tap, all local brews. There are ten weather beaten locals on stools propping the bar up and half a dozen tables all but one of which are occupied. Of course the unoccupied one is the furthest from the fire... |
